


going home

by ronanlynchisneversleepingagain



Series: trk missing scenes [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, TRK spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:29:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6991255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronanlynchisneversleepingagain/pseuds/ronanlynchisneversleepingagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam's heart clenched in his chest and he felt like shouting or hitting the wall, but did neither. Instead, his arms wrapped around Ronan even as the memories of the last time they had been this close washed over him with dread and shame. He watched as his own hands took Ronan’s and he reminded himself that they were his own again. It was him holding Ronan’s hand and no one else. The demon was gone. Cabeswater was gone. Adam Parrish was all that was left.  ... Set immediately after ch 66.</p>
            </blockquote>





	going home

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted on tumblr: http://ronanlynchisneversleepingagain.tumblr.com/post/144991825473
> 
> set immediately after ch 66

Adam almost offered to drive. Ronan was covered in blood that was too black to really be blood. Adam could see bruises already buried along Ronan’s throat where Adam’s hands had choked and clawed the life from him just hours ago.

 _Had it even been hours?_ Adam wondered. The clock on the BMW’s dash said it 3:47 pm, but the hazy pink fingers of dawn in the sky told Adam otherwise. Ronan’s hands were tight on the steering wheel, his body frenetic with emotion. His phone was still ringing, but Ronan didn’t seem to hear it. Adam closed his eyes against the sound.

“The fuck is Cheng doing?” Ronan said. His voice was a snarl.

Adam opened his eyes to see the Fisker ahead of them slowing down for a red light.

“Obeying traffic laws?” Adam said.

Ronan grunted.

Adam let his head fall to the side, allowing himself to stare at Ronan in profile. The dawn light was brighter now and it cast Ronan’s already pale skin in a ghostly light. Ronan was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in no discernible beat as he glared ahead to Cheng’s car. He gunned the engine as soon as Cheng pulled out from the red light and the Fisker ahead of them seemed to get the message, flying faster down the road towards the hospital.

Blue’s mother was standing outside the entrance to the E.R. Adam wondered how long she had been there. Ronan pulled up to the curb instead of parking.

“What are you doing?” Adam asked.  He ran a hand over his tired face, trying to pull his thoughts together.

“I have to go to D.C.,” Ronan said. Adam closed his eyes and noticed for the first time that Ronan’s phone had stopped ringing. The battery might have died. Or whoever had been calling Ronan was otherwise occupied. Adam sat back in the seat, making no move to unbuckle himself. Ronan was in no state to drive. Much less to D.C. He almost offered to drive again, but didn’t. Aurora Lynch’s dead face flashed in his memory, terrible and beautiful, a dream twisted onto itself. They didn’t know yet.

“I’ll go with you,” Adam said. He could see Cheng leading Blue and Gansey from the parking lot. Blue’s face looked more terrible in the daylight – her stitches ripped open and dried with blood. Gansey was sallow and tired, but undeniably Gansey as he walked beside her. It felt both like a dream and reality at the same time.

“No,” Ronan said. He leaned forward to rest his chin against the steering wheel, his eyes watching the progression from the parking lot blankly. Adam’s fingers flexed with the desire to touch him, but the movement died as they remembered the bruises along Ronan’s throat. _My fault_ , Adam thought, as he caught sight of the damage again.  

Adam sighed, expelling all of the breath he had. His hands were fists in his lap from the effort of not touching Ronan. When he looked up again to look at the boy beside him, Ronan was gazing at his hands with an inscrutable expression.

“Make sure Blue is okay,” Ronan said instead of the million other things Adam wanted him to say. Adam nodded and opened the door, sliding out of the BMW.

Blue and the others had already disappeared inside. Adam made his way into the bright emergency room lobby as the BMW’s tires squealed behind him. He blinked at the unnatural brightness and it took him a moment to locate his friends. Gansey was slumped in a chair, remade and whole, and Henry Cheng was beside him, a photo negative of alertness and attention. He waved to Adam from across the room.

“Maura went with Blue. The nurse said it looked worse than it was,” Cheng reported as soon as Adam was near. Adam had to strain to catch every word. Cheng didn’t yet know to pitch his words towards Adam’s right ear and not just in his general direction. “Where’s Lynch?”

“D.C.,” Adam replied without elaboration. This stirred Gansey from his slump. He frowned at Adam.

“Alone?” Gansey asked. Adam shrugged, but didn’t explain. He didn’t know what to say, so instead he threw himself into the empty chair beside Gansey. Gansey was still frowning, his fingers rubbing gentle circles in his temple. “Is he okay to drive?”

Adam shrugged again, as if to say, _is he ever?_

Gansey sighed, although Adam wasn’t sure if it was because of Ronan, himself or both of them. It felt so comfortingly like Gansey, though, that it soothed Adam. He was still looking for chinks in the armor of this new, re-made Gansey, but found nothing but the Gansey he had known. They waited together in relative silence.

When Blue returned to them, she was clearly almost asleep on her feet. Her face had been sewn back together and the blood had been neatly washed away. She looked miserable. Gansey stirred immediately to hug her, enveloping her in a huge hug which she returned. She grabbed Adam’s hand and drew him into hug and Adam was vaguely aware that Henry had joined them, all holding each other tightly. He rested his head against her shoulder, glad for his friends’ warmth and life around him and wishing Ronan were there. Not that Ronan Lynch would join a group hug, but still…it felt incomplete without a sarcastic comment to punctuate their sappiness.

“Let’s go home,” Blue said and the boys all nodded. Adam felt a pang at the word _home_ and without meaning to, he thought of the Barns, empty and quiet without the Lynch brothers. He wondered if Ronan had brought Orphan Girl to D.C. or dropped her off at the Barns before making the rest of the drive. He wondered where Ronan was right at that moment. Had he made it to D.C. yet? Surely, he had. It had been almost two hours since he had peeled out of the parking lot of the hospital.

Cheng offered to drive Adam back to St. Agnes on his way back to Litchfield House. Adam accepted more graciously than he might have under normal circumstances. He was just so tired. He couldn’t think of anything better than his own bed.

When he arrived back at St. Agnes, however, his room was wrong. He laid on the bed and closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. He couldn’t think of anything but Ronan. He should have insisted that Ronan couldn’t go alone. What if he had wrapped his stupid BMW around a tree? What if he got to D.C. to find Matthew dead? What if…?

Adam threw the blankets off of himself and groped for his keys on the floor where they had landed next to his jeans. His fingers wrapped around them and his decision was made. He made his way quietly down the stairs, the wood creaking underneath him in a way that made him feel as though someone was watching him. He didn’t think he would ever shake the feeling that Robert Parrish might come out of the shadows if he were to find him out of bed at such an hour.

The Hondayota started with minimal protest. Adam said a little prayer of thanks every time the engine roared to life, but that morning, he punctuated it with an extra _thank you_. He wasn’t sure who he was praying to. Henrietta was slowly waking up for the day as Adam drove through town and in a distant way, he remembered that it was Tuesday and a school day. He drove past Aglionby without guilt. It took him almost forty minutes to get to the Barns and he wasn’t sure where he found the energy. He wasn’t even sure if the doors would be unlocked when he got there.

When he took the last curve of the long driveway of the Barns, it was with both relief and disappointment that he noted it was empty and the farmhouse was dark. Ronan had not made it back yet. It was expected, but still ached strangely as it settled in Adam’s mind. He made his way up to the door, trying the knob experimentally, half-surprised to find it unlocked.

“Hello?” Adam asked. The Orphan Girl was not home either. Adam kicked off his shoes at the door. He could desperately use a shower and a change of clothes, but had thought of neither back at St. Agnes and was too tired to explore the Barns for possibilities. He trudged his way up the stairs, starting for Declan’s room, but then changing his mind and opening the door to Ronan’s instead. The sheets were tangled as though Ronan had only just left after a fitful night of sleeping. Adam collapsed onto the small bed, shutting his eyes almost instantly. The powerful smell of Ronan was all around him – it smelled of gasoline and woods and something else entirely – and he felt sleep wrap its arms around him. He didn’t resist.

It was dark when he woke. At first, he wasn’t sure why he had woken at all. The room was too quiet around him until he realized that his good ear was buried in the pillow. When he opened his eyes, Ronan Lynch was staring at him from across the room.

Ronan was sitting on the floor, legs splayed out in front of him. He still looked like hell, but there was less blood. Adam realized that Ronan must have changed his shirt at some point in the night. Chainsaw cawed softly from Ronan’s shoulder upon seeing Adam open his eyes and flew to him. Adam sat up in bed and rubbed her head with a finger.

“Well?” Adam asked. His voice was still thick with sleep. He felt as though he could sleep another 10 hours and still be tired.

“Matthew will be fine,” Ronan answered. Adam wasn’t sure if that had been what he was really asking, but he also didn’t know that it wasn’t. He fell back against the flattened pillows. His eyes threatened to fall shut again.

“And you?” The words were a struggle to form against the sleep that threatened to wash over him again.

Ronan didn’t answer, but a moment later, Adam felt the bed sink a little lower. He pushed himself over to make room for Ronan, although the other boy did not immediately take the space. Adam’s hands twitched with the longing to touch him again.

Instead, he said, “Ronan.” It was both a question and an invitation.

Ronan sighed a long, ragged breath and his head sank into his arms. Adam sat up behind him and reached out to him. His fingers had barely brushed Ronan’s shoulder when the other boy grabbed his hand and held it. His touch was a lifeline for Adam. Adam let his fingers curl around Ronan’s and pulled the boy closer by tugging back. Ronan fell easily back against Adam’s chest and Adam saw then that he had been crying.

“Ronan,” he said again because he didn’t know what else to say. His heart was clenched in his chest and he felt like shouting or hitting the wall, but did neither. Instead, his arms wrapped around the other boy even as the memories of the last time they had been this close washed over him with a feeling of dread and shame. He watched as his own hands took Ronan’s and he reminded himself that they were his own again. It was him holding Ronan’s hand and no one else. The demon was gone. Cabeswater was gone. Adam Parrish was all that was left.

They fell asleep like that, or at least, Adam did. He wasn’t sure if Ronan slept or not. When Adam woke up, Ronan was beside him, staring up at the ceiling. It was dark again.

When Ronan saw he was awake, he turned onto his side to look at Adam. The moment felt fragile and warm around Adam and he didn’t want to ruin it by talking. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Ronan. It was purposeful kiss, steady and sure. He poured intention into his lips, hoping that Ronan would understand feelings that Adam didn’t yet know how to talk about. Ronan’s hand, electric on Adam’s skin, cradled his face and Adam wondered again at how _gentle_ Ronan was. He touched Adam as though Adam were likely to break or disappear at any moment and Adam was thirsty for the kindness of Ronan’s hands.

They wrapped around each other in exploration and shared grief until a “ _Kerah_!” from the window broke the spell of their heavy breathing and sticky skin. Chainsaw had returned.

“ _Kerah_!” she cried again and this time her cry was punctuated by footsteps coming up the stairs. The Orphan Girl tromped into the room with a bang of the door and Ronan swore under his breath. Adam leaned back against the pillow and felt the moment break around them as the reality of the day set in.

“Your friends are downstairs,” the Orphan Girl said. She had taken a seat in the corner, apparently unperturbed by the scene she had interrupted. Ronan slid away from Adam and sat on the side of the bed.

“Go downstairs with them, then,” he said and his voice was sharp enough that if it had been a knife, he might have cut the poor girl. She looked appropriately injured either way, but left all the same. Ronan slammed the door behind her and leaned against it. He stared down at the dirt-stained clothes that piled on the floor.

“Matthew’s clothes would probably fit you better,” he said and started rummaging through an old dresser.

“I don’t mind,” Adam said, meaning it. He had stripped off his dirty, sweat-soaked t-shirt sometime in night – it had been too hot in the small, crowded bed to keep it on. He climbed out of bed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to flatten it down into some order. He would need a shower before he could really tame it again, but he didn’t have time for one now if Gansey and the others were already downstairs. Ronan shoved a t-shirt at him and Adam took it with some bemusement.

“I didn’t know you wore t-shirts,” Adam drawled. He couldn’t resist the jab. He couldn’t think of a time he hadn’t seen Ronan in either his Aglionby uniform or a black tank. Ronan blinked at him with annoyance.

“Fuck off, Parrish,” he said finally, but not in bad humor. He slammed the drawer he had been looking in shut and then pulled on a noticeably cleaner tank than the one he had just pulled off of himself. Adam tried not to be too obvious in his admiration of the other boy’s shifting muscles and sinew, but by the pleased curve of Ronan’s lips, he could tell he had been unsuccessful. Adam pulled on the shirt Ronan had given him. It was tight, but fit comfortably enough. It was a festival t-shirt for an Irish Pride fest that had happened in Boston 3 years ago, before that sort of thing would have felt ridiculous for Ronan Lynch to have attended.

Adam smiled down at it with a strange rush of gladness – two months ago, this shirt would have been an impossible thing to add to what he knew about Ronan Lynch, but he was _learning_ and the puzzle was getting clearer. When he looked up, Ronan had turned back to the window to look out. Adam joined him and looked out to see Henry Cheng’s Fisker instead of the Pig, which he had expected. He was about to ask a question, but stopped as his eyes snagged on Ronan’s throat, thrown into the splash of light from outside for the first time since they had woken up. Adam sighed, the cars outside completely forgotten, as his good mood was suffocated by the dark purple bruises that lined Ronan’s neck. His hand, unbidden, rose to his own neck. Ronan caught the movement.

“Christ, Parrish,” he said. “Don’t be an idiot.”

He grabbed Adam’s hands and held them in his own, bringing them to his lips. Adam sighed and leaned against the wall. He felt a strange, shapeless kind of misery.

“Adam,” Ronan said. The gentleness was back in his voice – an unconditional forgiveness that seemed unimaginable to Adam.

“I know,” Adam conceded. “It’s just…”

“Astra inclinant, sed non obligant.” Ronan kissed his hand again before letting it go. Adam let it swing to his side, missing the contact immediately. He straightened himself up and tugged at his hair again before sucking in a steadying breath.

“Okay,” Adam said. “We should go downstairs before they come up here.”

Ronan grumbled, but the specter of Henry Cheng popping upstairs to check in on them was enough to stir him from the window. As Adam opened the door to go down, Ronan caught his arm and pulled him back. He kissed him in that same hungry way that he had the first time two nights ago – a distant cousin of the sleepily comforting kisses of only a few minutes before. Adam felt flushed as Ronan pulled away and by the brightness of the other boy’s eyes, he could tell he felt it too.

“Thank you,” Ronan said. “For being here.”

Adam took Ronan’s hand and threaded his fingers through his.

“Anytime,” he said, meaning it.

 


End file.
